Zwielichtstreuner

To start with, I will compose a letter: Dear Monster under the bed, Tell you I can still hear the whispering after a ten-year vacancy notice. I'm sick of how you hold me down, the way you shackle me to the bed, bound by thresholds cotton sheets cloaking every drop of by fear-infused blood. Heavy breathing, chills down my spine. Your phantom is pressing down on my chest, and I'm helpless, stunned, screaming, waking to my night-robed mother hand warming my pallid skin. No memory—only a voice, (and I think it was yours) asking where the monster was. Are we afraid to forget what might have been imagined? I know you

Prologue-     I see you've taken an interest in this piece of work.  Well, let me explain something before you even dare to continue.  This series shows how connected worlds can be, while still being so distant.  This is the first small step on a much larger journey.  You are more than welcome to continue reading, but I would not suggest that you go on if you like the peaceful, independent world that you live in now.  Continuing on will show that even though things may seem very different, they can be completely alike.  The other is also true.  This can be heeded as a warning, or an invitation.  It's your choice, to go forward, with little